I opened my eyes slowly and stared at the ceiling. It took me a minute before my brain started working and I remembered what happened. I closed my eyes again and sighed.
As I stood up I glanced down at my arm. It was covered in blood, dry and fresh, and it looked pretty bad. I went into the bathroom and cleaned up all the cuts, too weak from loss of blood and pain to bandage my arm tight enough.
Then I walked back into my room. After glancing at the clock I started getting dressed. It was still five in the morning and a Saturday but, I didn't care. I had slept enough and I knew if I slept too long I would regret it.
I was dressed but, I didn't have anything I needed to do so I sat down on my bed and closed my eyes. The pain in my arm distracted me from the mental pain in my head and I sighed.
I heard shuffling downstairs and a pop as some bottle was opened. Probably my mother getting more alcohol. I sat up and walked to my door.
I could hear her mumbling about something. I wasn't sure if it was a good idea for me to go down and make breakfast. I decided against it and went back to sitting on my bed.
I was about to get up and start working on some homework when there was a tap on my window. I froze and glanced at my door, praying my mother hadn't heard.
When nothing happened and there was another tap I stood up and walked to my window. I looked out and saw someone standing in the grass. It was still dark so I couldn't really see them.
I opened my window and squinted at them. "Eliot!" By the voice I could tell it was Marcus. I glanced at my door before turning back and waving for him to shut up. He didn't get the message.
"Eliot! Can we talk? Please?" He called.
I groaned and whispered. "Marcus. Be quiet. If you're too loud my mom will hear you."
He frowned but, motioned me to come down. I sighed as I slowly put my foot out the window eased myself down until Marcus could grab me and help me the rest of the way.
When I was on the ground I turned to him. "What do you want?" I asked sharply.
He frowned. "I just wanted to know if you were okay."
I looked down. "I'm fine."
He didn't look like he believed me. "Eliot, I'm serious. Did they do anything to you?" He looked concerned.
I subconsciously moved my injured arm behind my back. "Not really. It was just the usual."
He sighed and brushed my cheek with his fingertips. I winced when he accidentally touched the fresh bruise around my eye. He shook his head. "I want to kill them." He muttered.
I turned and away. "I'm fine, okay? Just relax."
He remained silent and I glanced at him. He was staring at my hand. I looked down at it and saw that there was blood dripping off my fingers. I hadn't even noticed, my arm too numb from pain. I quickly tried to hide my hand before he could say anything but, he grabbed my wrist.
I tried to pull away. "Marcus, stop. Let go." He didn't and I started yanking on my hand.
"What is that?" He asked, trying to pull up my sleave.
"It's noth-" I gasped as he pushed me against the side of the house and pinned me there. He yanked my sleave up and I looked away.
His eyes widened before narrowing. "What is this?!" He hissed. "Did they do this too?!"
I glanced at the bloody bandages. "N-... No. I did that..."
He froze. "Eliot? Please, tell me that's a lie."
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My Bully
Teen FictionElliot never had friends, he's always been bullied and his parents are both drunkards with a bad temper. All his life he's just dealt with the problems and toughed it out. When he moves to a new house and new school nothing really changes. He still...